In the Darkness
by FlyingLovegood123
Summary: A look at the life and motivations of Sam Winchester because the dude gets a lot of crap. Spoilers for all seasons up to Holy Terror. Warnings: Mild language, mentions character death, and insanity.


In The Darkness

**A/N: That last episode . . . *Shudders* Holy Terror was . . . terrifying.**

**Spoilers for most of the seasons! Mostly season 4 to 9!**

**Warning: Mild language**

It all made _sense _now.

Sam looked from inside his mind—so reminiscent from his time possessed as Lucifer—and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. The blank spots, the tiredness, the coldness. It all made sense.

Well, he thought, like it's going to help me _now._

There wasn't much Sam _could _do. It had been a week since the angel inside of him—Gadriel, was it?—had taken full control. Apparently he had been getting stronger and stronger, holding onto the energy he'd saved until he was more powerful than Sam.

Sam didn't think Gadriel was _evil,_ per se, but he was making the wrong choices for the right reasons. Sam laughed bitterly to himself. Gadriel was very similar to him, wasn't he?

Sam put up with a lot of crap from Dean. He did. There is such a long list of things that Sam could say 'yeah, I messed up,' and it would be true. But he was always trying. With Ruby, he was trying to get revenge for Dean's death and force her to bring him back before killing her. Yeah, he suspected Ruby was evil—she was a _demon_—but she was the only one who understood, the only one willing to help. He was so tired by that point in time. He wanted a normal life. He wanted to marry, settle down, and have a quiet life away from the mess and uncertainty.

The issue of Ruby hadn't really been one of great importance while Dean was alive and they had first met the blonde haired demon, but then he had to watch Dean get _brutally _murdered in front of him. He was a mess—he had no idea what to do or how to cope. He could go have his normal life, but Dean would be suffering in Hell because of him and how could he just let that go and live that apple pie life? But then Ruby had come—she gave him a chance, a _purpose _again. Revenge. A motivation Sam was oh so familiar with.

So maybe the first few drops of demon blood went down willingly. But soon it was a need—he _couldn't _stop. He tried, but he caved in each goddamned time because he couldn't stop. When Dean came back, Sam tried to stop, but by then Ruby's whispered words of revenge had sliced into his brain and the addiction to her blood made it _so hard _to think.

He was supposed to be the smart one, right? The one with the clear head and the one who made an attempt at clean living. He wasn't the one who guzzled down alcohol like it was water or who ate every greasy heart-attack inducing piece of junk food that came his way. But he couldn't stop.

He just wanted everything to be over.

But, of course, nothing was easy and he started the apocalypse.

All in a day's work, right?

He supposed God must have it out for the two of them. Dean started everything and Sam ended everything. They were both at fault. But Sam . . . if Sam could've just seen things clearer, just told himself to be happy with Dean's return, just said no . . .

But there was more.

When Sam fell into the Cage, he made Dean promise to have that apple pie life Dean had always wanted for him. When they were younger, Dean was always so happy to hunt. He was eager to learn everything he could (no matter how much he teased Sam about being the nerd); how to kill the monsters and save the innocent.

But Dean was slowly losing his faith and his hope in everything and everyone, even Sam—and it broke Sam.

He remembered how he reacted when Dean went to Hell. He could have _Dean _go down that path. He, Sam, was already screwed. He did some pretty unforgivable things. He was doomed from the start—six months into life and he had _everything _taken away. He lost his chance for a normal life, for a mother and for a dad who actually cared more about him than the demon. Hell, he hadn't even had his humanity. He could never be _pure._ Not the way Dean was. He couldn't see Dean go down the messed up path Sam had. He _couldn't._

When he woke up in Bobby's panic room a year and a half later, Dean lied to him.

That was pretty much how it was going to be, wasn't it? They were always going to lie about something to the other. They used to be fairly close when they were younger, and the first year—the year they were looking for their dad—that went okay. But then Dean lied to Sam about John's final words, and that snowballed.

But Sam went along with it, because he trusted Dean, no matter how many times they had screwed each other over. In the motel room after Dean left to talk to the dragon expert, Sam reflected that the Winchesters would let the world burn for each other. They'd grab the lighter fluid, match, and strike the spark if need be. But they would never be truthful to each other. It just wasn't them.

Then he learned some of the horrors he had committed when soulless.

He had dragged Dean away from the life he had wanted—_needed—_and proceeded to not only let him be turned into a vampire but to also spilt he and Lisa up.

If there was ever a need for an example of how evil he was, it was that year.

Cas took down his walls, and Sam was trapped in his own mind. Frankly, the fact that he had to kill his soulless and Hell-tortured selves to escaped only went to show how truly messed he was.

When Sam was insane, he did his best to protect Dean from it. It wasn't Dean's fault. It was the best of a bad situation, and it was Sam's burden to bear. After all, wasn't he the one who messed up the most? And if not the most (because Dean did tie in close) the most spectacularly? Maybe this was his punishment. This was his fate.

Sam would take it all if it meant Dean would live.

But Dean died. Sam isn't quite sure anyone knew what he was going through that year that Dean went to Purgatory and Sam dropped off the face of the planet.

Dean had had a year off, too, hadn't he? With Lisa and Ben, in that ordinary and safe life. Funny how Dean achieved it even when Sam never had—not for lack of trying, though.

But it wasn't even that. All his life, Sam had never been _alone._ He and Dean had basically been together their entire life, and their little family had grown. There was Bobby, and Cas, and Kevin. Even when he was insane, they were there for him.

Bobby, the closest thing he had to a father.

Kevin, a kid who was put in an impossible situation and expected to do so much.

Castiel, the angel of fell for them after only knowing them a few months and risked so much for them.

And Dean, his brother, who he'd do _anything _for.

Then, just weeks after he was no longer _insane_—an insanity that had almost killed him—Bobby was gone, then Dean and Cas, then Kevin. All within three hours of each other.

Sam almost went insane again, and then there would be no one to help him.

So he could see two paths. Get out of this life, get out and take time to clear his head and breathe and make sure his switch didn't flip again or risk going insane again to get Dean back from where ever the hell he had ended up.

Sam wasn't even sure where Dean and Cas had gone. Maybe Purgatory, but who knew? How could he even find out? Kevin, the only one who could read the tablets, was gone. Sam was sure Crowley would have taken the kid somewhere where Sam could never find him. No demons would tell him. Who could he turn to? Where could he go? The Roadhouse, Bobby's . . . they were all gone.

So Sam left.

He hadn't been Sam in a long time. Years, in fact. Ever since he had started drinking demon blood Sam had ceased to be . . . Sam. That year he was a junkie. The next, a soldier. The next, soulless. Then an amnesiac, then insane. There was no time to breathe. Dean had gotten a year off after they were soldiers. A year to breathe, to mourn, to move on. But Sam hadn't gotten any rest for years. There was no break for him since Jess's death. No time for him to clear his head. The Yellow-eyed demon was just the start. Where did he get off? Where did he get to have that life he always wanted?

When Amelia told him that her husband was still alive, Sam bitterly thought '_never'._ He would never, ever get that life he wanted. Something would always, without fail, bring him back.

When he reached the cabin, the only place he could think of, Dean was there.

Sam didn't want to explain why he took that year off. He wasn't sure Dean would get it. Dean would probably consider it a 'chick-flick moment'. There were times Sam hated the phrase. Besides, how could he explain he felt it was good to be 'better safe than sorry'? Be safe, get out, go away than sorry and dirty himself yet again.

He found out that Dean was friends with a vampire. A _monster._ The word echoed in Sam's ears whenever Benny was around.

Lilith's laughing voice echoed in his ear; "_You turned yourself into a freak. A monster. And now you're not gonna bite? I'm sorry, but that is honestly adorable."_

Sam looked at Dean who shook his head. Protecting a _vampire._

"_If I didn't know you, I'd want to hunt you!" _Dean's voice told him over and over again.

Sam gritted his teeth and shook Benny's hand.

Okay, so maybe at one point in time Sam might've lightened up of Benny. But the last time Sam trusted a monster, he had ended up becoming a blood junkie. What if Dean had cracked in his time in Purgatory? What if Benny was using him?

Sam couldn't let Dean go down that path. He'd been there, done that, had the scars to prove it. Sam _knew._ He couldn't let Dean trust Benny. It could only ever end badly.

Then there were the trials. Never, in all his life had Sam felt so _clean._

It shouldn't have been possible, right? He was Sam Winchester. The ex-demon blood junkie. The soulless freak that had dragged his brother back into the life that had broken them in the first place. The insane brother who saw Lucifer. There was no way these trials could be purifying him. But yet . . . _they were._

The blackness that surrounded and infected his heart was receding and leaving him and left nothing but Sam Winchester. Sam was amazed that there was anything of him at all. He was so used to the evil in him that he had no control over, no choice over, that the fact that he even existed without it . . .

Sam would finish these trials if it killed him.

"_You finish these trials, you're dead, Sam."_

"_So?"_

Confession—Sam had lied when he said he saw a light at the end. What light could there be for someone like him? But here Dean was, telling him to let go.

"_You want to know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I had let you down."_

Dean's suggestions for confessions rang in his ears. "_Ruby, killing Lilith, letting Lucifer out, losing your soul, not looking for me when I went to Purgatory." _Yeah, those were all good suggestions.

They were, weren't they? They were all of Sam's greatest failures in his life. No matter what excuses he made, no matter how much he explained his reasoning behind it all, they were his biggest failures.

(Although, how he should apologize for being soulless was beyond him. It wasn't like it was his choice—Cas had done that. Yeah, it was him, but it's not like he could have stopped it. There's a reason he needed a 'Jiminy Cricket'.)

But it was like an equation in his mind. Ruby, Lilith, Lucifer, Losing his soul, Purgatory . . . they all spelled one thing out for him.

Failing Dean.

And so he didn't see a light. He had never seen the light in his life. What light was there to see? This life, this disease of a life . . . there was no escaping it.

Dean was speaking, trying to convince Sam that he needed him.

But did he? Dean knew so much more than him. He was the best hunter in the world, he was smart, efficient, and pure . . . clean. Why did he need Sam? What was the point in having a brother like Sam around? Sam messed everything up. No matter how hard he tried; no matter what sacrifices he made, everything came crashing down around him.

He was so _tired _of it.

Tired of the rotten evilness infecting him, tired of the look of betrayal that hung around Dean's eyes whenever he looked at Sam because Sam could never get things right. So tired of the blood on his hands that would never wash away. The blood of the people he couldn't save, the friends he'd let down, the family he had lost.

"_What happens when you've decided I can't be trusted again? I mean, who are you gonna turn to next time instead of me? Another angel, another –another vampire? Do you have any idea what it feels like to watch your brother just—" _

Dean trusted a monster over him. Said a lot, didn't it? But Dean's reply, cutting off what Sam was about to say (_just hate you, look at you in disgust, consider you a monster . . .)_ with words that shocked him.

"_Hold on, hold on! You seriously think that? Because none of it –none of it—is true. Listen, man, I know we've had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I've said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Sammy . . . come on. I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you."_

That, above all, made Sam stop. It was the most honest they had been with each other in . . . well, ever.

So he stopped.

The angels fell. Crowley was locked up. Cas was missing. Kevin was cracked. And Sam started missing chunks of time.

And Dean was lying.

_Here we go again,_ was all Sam could think when he started noticing Dean lying to him. At least there was one time they were honest to each other. A chance for Dean to see just how broken Sam was—just how broken Sam had _always _been, and Sam could see that Dean needed him. Not because he was an asset, not because he was useful, but because they were family.

Sam never really understood what it meant to be a family.

Now he knew why Dean had been lying. There was an angel inside of him. His words from a few weeks earlier echoed in his mind as he floated in the darkness.

"_Honestly I feel better than I have in a long time. I mean, I realize it's crazy out there, and we have trouble coming for us, but I look around and I see friends, and family. I am happy with my life, for the first time in . . . forever. I am, I really am. It's just, things are . . . things are good."_

It's funny that the first time Sam was happy with his life was when Dean was lying about him tricking an angel into Sam.

Sam was now in the darkness, and he didn't know where he was. He wasn't in charge, and he didn't have the strength to say _'no.'_ He didn't know what happened to Dean or Kevin. He didn't know what would happen to him. He was evil, with an angel inside of him. He had no idea how that would mash out. Maybe, finally, he would die and stay dead and it would all be over. That would be nice. He was just so tired . . .

Sam didn't know where he was. He didn't know where Dean or Cas or Kevin were.

He was alone in the darkness.

He didn't know what to do.

_Dean . . ._


End file.
